(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: The community hall is bustling with activity! There are games. There is food! There is all kinds of booze! There is live music playing and even a dance area! There is a sign on the colorful front table that says 'Do not sit. Reserved.'.

Confident in her stride, Sydney arrives wearing what's clearly a very pink, very hand-me-down dress, free of a mask. Given the pugilist's distinctive silhouette and impractical amount of hair-to-height ratio, it would be rather a tall order to stuff it all beneath even the most ambitious mask. As such, she's made no effort to do so. She flashes an easy grin to any that happen to turn to meet her arrival, then points with two fingers of each hand toward the refreshments, heading that way. "Drinks first. Mingling after." Priorities.

The party is just beginning! People are arriving, people are mingling. Simple, but hearty foods like stew and baked bread, some roasted fowl and hunks of cheese line one of the tables. Another table holds a host of alcoholic drinks! What party is it without drinks?! Sitting in an oversized chair is Raja wearing a black fox mask. She really isn't trying to hide her identity. She has one leg draped over an arm of her chair and with one hand, she swirls a long fox tail in circles. "Welcome! Come! Eat, drink, be merry!"

Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog, 1 Harlequin jongleur arrive, following Tanith.

Dolente, a mourning dove arrives, following Cesare.

Dolente, a mourning dove have been dismissed.

Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog have been dismissed.

1 Harlequin jongleur have been dismissed.


It's hard to say how long Jacali has been lurking about waiting for the festivities to begin, nursing a drink she's assuredly brought for herself, glaring daggers at the entrance every time someone walks in that isn't Vandred, the Lackey Lad, with whatever it is she's told him to bring to the party that he's yet to arrive at. There are sighs heaved, the brim of her tophat drawn low over her eyes, her legs neatly crossed wherever it is she's found herself a perch, her expression one lacking particular interest or excitement.
She truly hates these social events.
Why is she here then, I hear you ask?
That's a very good question.

Look, you don't spend years trying to become the most famous singer in the Compact just to shove a mask over your face. Or at least that might be Gianna's reasoning, because yes, maskless. And clad in leathers. Leathers are alright, aren't they? She has her gittern with her and she's strumming as she walks. That's the other thing about wearing a mask: a dark-haired blue-eyed musician with that voice is hard to mistake for someone else.

There's a tall man - a ludicrously tall, ludicrously thin man - wearing the scuffed and scarred black leathers of a Lowers tough, and parked in a corner with a tankard in his hand. Although amid the shadows of his hood a white skull gleams, and it may even be that there is no flesh on his bones. There's certainly no skin visible, and no sign of a fleshy face in those inky shadows - just the black eyesockets of the skull gazing blankly out.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair has a goblet in one hand and the hem of her "wooden" skirt in the other as she glides across the room to greet the hostess. "Raja, this is fantastic! I have been looking forward to this for weeks, and it is even better than I imagined." She twirls around at the last part, leaning on the chair when she comes to a stop.

Conversely to Gianna, someone /else/ who is a reasonably famous singer is here and absolutely wearing a mask, because he /loves/ these sorts of things, silly parties, games, games with weird conceits especially. He's dressed all in blue and green and blue-green today, and like Gianna, not particularly unrecognizable - tall, slender, improbably graceful, a spill of long dark hair. Particularly not compared to past masqued balls, where he typically cuts a much different figure. But to those of Nightingale Park, many of whom have only seen him in passing or at Assemblies or heard of him, he may be known only by reputation. Still: Spring-green drifts in with ease, interest, and excitement, and heads...straight for the booze. It's a good place to meet people, the booze table.

Hired servers move around the area in colorful linen tabards and simple matching, expressionless masks. They carry trays of snacks and drinks to the various party goers. It's the little things like servers bringing food to make a party feel a little more festive.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask glances up to the 'wooden' woman and beams a smile, though unseen from behind her mask. "Yes!" She beams a smile. "I am so excited and look!" She gestures to Gianna who walks through the crowds with her instrument. "We have the best music in the city here!" She is almost like a kid with this. As a server goes by, she reaches for a shot of whiskey from the tray and thanks the server.

Tanith sweeps into the Community Hall, mask pulled up to crown her long, dark hair. She's dressed in modest linen dyed spring-green that's expertly cut to fit her figure, a deep v-neckline and sleeves that stop at the elbow, with a modest train and hemline that brushes the top of her leather boots. There's a subtle train, the edges of her garment embroidered with little white skulls and a spray of blue forget-me-nots that match the flowers that crown her hair.

The First Harlequin spots the tall man in the skull mask, grinning to herself as she wanders over, pulling down her own 'skull' half-mask, the tooled leather bleached a pale ivory, the top bordered in little blue flowers and tiny green leaves.


Slipping in unmasked, Vandred's entrance lacks fanfare as he quietly and patiently makes his way across the edge of main festivities - pausing momentarily to peruse some of the food on offer. The pause becomes a full stop, and he plucks up a pie. A cursory sniff, a bite, and after he swallows he gives a momentary examination of the pastry. He plucks up another one, and then begins quietly weaving his way to Jacali's perch. He gives a dip of the head, before he offers the bitten pie to her. "Greasy." He offers this in some odd form of greeting.


Restraint does not seem to be in Sydney's vocabulary, today. She immediately starts the occasion off by sharing a shot with a server, and and then heaps up a plate full of party food about as high as it can comfortably rise without overflowing. She determines this, of course, by the first morsels of food starting to overflow the plate.

With a dignified yelp and a quick hand motion, Sydney catches most of it in a palm, and casually transfers the almost-dropped wedges of fried potatoes, then seats herself casually /on/ the drink table, one leg neatly draped over the other. A fixture of the refreshment table. The raider of refreshments, herself.

Gianna bows at the waist to the person in the Fox-Faced mask... lower than she usually bows to lords and ladies. She makes a flourish with her free hand. "Why thank you," she replies, voice carrying easily. Spying the person in the wooden wind-swept mask, she blinks. "Oh, you look wonderful. What a brilliant idea!" That said, the bard begins to play anew, a lively, fast tune.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask is overheard praising Gianna: Best music in the city!


"How dare you, treacle, how very dare you," Jacali speaks as Vandred approaches and offers her that bitten pie. "I've just bloody bathed, me, I have, have, haven't a streak of grease lingerin' upon my very splendid self, I don't, spick'n'bloody span, just look and see, see, see you next..." Her lips press to a tight, bloodless line as she forces an abrupt end to her meandering, repetative speech. There's a moment of pause, and then she, too, leans to give a sniff at the pie, before she begins idly chewing at it. With her cheeks chipmunk-stuffed, she continues: "S'not the same when it aren't stale'n stolen, is it? Issit? Aye, 'course it ain't." Crumbs tumble from her lips, flakey and satisfyingly greasy as he had described.
"S'not bad, I guess." She provides.
Her head tilts to allow her to watch and to listen the goings on of those that have gathered here for the festivities, but she doesn't seem all too keen on engaging just now.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask leans away from his corner and offers Tanith his hand. When he moves, it becomes evident that he's wearing a cloak of a definite coppery colour, a rectangle of fabric that'd be draping on the floor if he weren't so tall. And if it looks as though it might once have been a tablecloth, well, what's the harm.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask turns her gaze over the crowds, watching as folk get settled in. She spies Jacali to the side and perks up, lifting a hand to wave to the woman. "Hi!" She greets the other woman in friendly tones. Even if Jacali is not a social party goer, Raja is obviously quite pleased to see the woman. She then shifts to stand from her oversized chair (which almost makes her look like a child sitting in it) "What better way to get a party started than with BOOZE! Who is down for a good ol' fashined drinking contest?!" She calls out! As she calls out, hired servers begin to work at filling various mugs with various boozes.

"Why, thank /you/!" the woman dressed as a figurehead replies brightly to Gianna. She downs what remains in her cup and sets it aside before practically skipping away from Raja and dancing along to the tune the Nightingale plays. At the mention of the drinking contest Raja has her attention again. "What are the rules? Last one standing, or is there a twist?"

Some other commoners from the Bard's College have joined the festivities as well. The commoners make up the majority of the organization's membership, and they're the ones that get paid. Gianna leads them, setting the song for them to join in on. She gives a nod to Jacali and Vandred, and one to the one in spring green as well.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is /just/ lifting a mug to his lips, mask set slightly askew, as the Black Fox declares the drinking contest. It's a bad idea. Despite his prodigious talent for drinking over long periods of time with seemingly no ill-effects, he is not particularly good at drinking contests. But - "Yes, the rules?" he asks, curiously. A wave and a small tilt of the mouth to Gianna.

Throw a woman who's notoriously bad with names and faces into a room with those in even rudimentary masks, and that becomes a special layer of the abyss. Fortunately, there's at least two of the unmasked that she's able to pick out based on familiarity and body type alone. Sucking her fingers free of chicken grease, she pauses upon regarding the pair of skull-masked individuals, and then casually dusts the sides of her dress with both hands to dry them. Sanitary and efficient!

She then offers an amicable wave with both hands in their direction, calling, "Who? Who could this arresting pair of skeletal figures be? I ache to know!" She opines, lips curving up into an impish smile. Of course she knows. Her attention drifts briefly to Jacali and Vandred, a brow lofting as she takes another pull of whiskey.


"It's better when you've been running for a bit, too. Makes it feel like you've really earned it, the running." Vandred notes - the accusations and 'how dares' of Jacali washing on and over Vandred as if it were the stuff breeze - and his lips twitch into some awkward attempt at a smile. It lingers, and then it kind of falls apart - like a poorly maintained shed in that stiff breeze. He lifts up the unbitten pie and takes a bite from it. There's a pause, and Vandred gives a confused look as he's nodded at. The confused look remains as he inclines his head back to Gianna, and he gives a feeble attempt at a smile again, crumbs trickilng from the corners of his mouth, and he lifts his hand in front of his mouth so that he can chew.

A painful swallow follows, and his hand lowers, reaching into his coat to draw out a hankerchief, which he offers to Jacali. "Not bad. Better because it's local." He comments.

Raja, wearing that black fox mask, spins around towards the 'Wooden' woman. She points to her and says loudly, "What are the rules?! I am glad you asked! First, if you wish to join the game, come sit at this table!" She turns to point to the colorful front table. (place #7) "It is really, last man standing sort of rules! You drink until you either quit, get sick, or pass out! Really, up to you how far you will go." She rubs her hands together. "And! There is a prize!" From a box sitting by her oversized chair, Raja pulls out a mug made of solid cupridium. "Let's be lushes!" She makes her way to the colorful table, setting the mug down for all to view.

(OOC: The rules are simple! The more you drink, the harder it gets to keep it down! A fail means you either get sick or pass out. Your choice! .)

The first mug of booze is delivered to the tables set up. This one is an easy mug to hold down. It is a delicious pale ale with a nice frothy top! (@check stamina + survival at easy)

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask drops Lush's Delight, a solid cupridium mug.

There's a figure in a brightly painted gold columbine mask, there is, with one green eye and one sightless eye - peering through. Working a very careful path, well-practiced in avoidance. Turning her head around, taking a measure - wondering where the -- ah, there. That's the refreshment table. Why bother crashing a party, otherwise? With a little hum beneath the breath - the bards playing are pretty catchy, she nears one table close enough to swipe a bottle of ale, then another to grab up a handheld pie. Done and done. Now, she can find a place to perch and stuff her face.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair considers the terms and the prize, eventually deciding, "Well, if I pass out, that is the end of the party for me. I think I will just cheer on the competitors and drink at a more reasonable pace instead."

Raja says the magic word. That word is 'prize'. Gianna's attention snaps over thataway. She passes her gittern off to one of the other bards and sashays her way over to the contest table. Syndey gets a nod of recognition, as do the tall-tall man with the skull mask and his similarly skull-masked companion. Gianna takes up one of the mugs and tosses her hair over her shoulders so she can down it.

Gianna has joined the colorful front table.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves has joined the colorful front table.

Gianna checks stamina and survival at easy. Gianna marginally fails.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves considers these rules. "I've puked in public before," he announces, then follows Gianna to the table, picking up one of the mugs, giving it a sniff, and ... chugging.

The tall one in a skull mask and all that black leather doesn't head over to join the drinking contest. Then again, he does seem to be lacking a lower jaw, and the possibility that he doesn't have a stomach to pour the drink into might also make not drinking a reasonable reaction.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks stamina and survival at easy. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves marginally fails.


At the call from the figure in the black fox mask, one of Jacali's brows slowly quirks and her head turns toward Raja. Her hand lifts in some vague salute, one that should really have a drink in it instead of the pie that's actually offered in some mock tribute, bits still falling off, flaking away beneath the press of gloved fingertips. Lips far paler than they've any right to be offer a slow curl in an approximation of a smile, head dipping in a sharp bob of recognition without insisting her long-winded and unwieldy speech upon the others. At least, until mention of a drinking contest is made.
Here, a breath is sucked through her teeth in a hiss, one visible venomously green eye squinting against the suggestion. "No thanks, chickadee, I've brought my own, I have." She provides, "Aren't none what're meant to witness me proper messy here, there aren't, best I just observe, innit?"
With that, her attentions have trickled back to Vandred, the only one that stands near enough to her for what might be considered 'polite' conversation in circles less lax than this glorious collection. That one visible eye of hers sweeps over those that have looked the pair's way, and her own smile easily resembles Vandred's. Social graces ... what even are those? Both brows slowly raise, until finally she glances back to Vandred, "Mm? Oh, aye, the runnin'... aren't nothin' like the first draw of heady ale after someone's been packed proper up yer arse over some rancid lard'n a bit of flour, flour, stop'n smell 'em..." She mutters the last, her attentions taken by the people that have begun the competition.
"... y'gettin' involved?"

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks composure at hard. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is successful.

The facade doesn't last because Viviana needs to flick the mask up in order to properly eat and drink - alternating a bite of each, until her eyes lid. Contented. Watching the masked revelers taking on that drinking challenge, with a lazy interest.

Tanith pushes her mask back up when she catches a familiar voice, but she does take the hand of the man in the skull mask, glancing over her shoulder as Raja starts talking about a drinking contest. "Oooh, ALE." And she hesitates. But decides it might be better to stay with present company then join in on the drinking game. "I think I want to remember ... plus, Raja might need me." She smirks, glancing up at the tall man at her side, who seems to be missing a jaw. "...is that a tablecloth?"

Sydney has joined the colorful front table.

Chug. Chug. Chug. Chug. Gianna's throat moves as she quaffs the... whatever it is. She comes up for air, bangs the mug down on the table, and makes a face. Oh. Oh no. One hand comes up to touch her fingertips to her lips. There is a mighty gurgle. It is.... it is so bad. The Nightingale hastily stands up, fast enough to knock her chair over, and then runs for the exit, arms and legs pumping. It is not elegant. A couple of people arriving make a face as they enter, presumably passing a puking bard out front. "Isn't that...?" One asks. The other nods. They walk faster. Gianna is absent for... a time.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask has joined the green bench.

Tanith has joined the green bench.

Sydney checks stamina and survival at easy. Sydney is successful.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves immediately says, with no visible change in expression, "I beg your pardon," very politely. He turns around and promptly returns everything he just drank directly into the mug, and then ... empties it into a flowerpot somewhere nearby.

Drinking. Contest. What in the world could be the downside of such a thing? Sydney abandons her place at the refreshment table where she's been drinking, in favor of... drinking for a sanctioned cause! She drags a chair over, turns it around and straddles it, draping an arm over the chairback. The other, she uses to drink with, taking a long swig and then chugging it on down. Her eyes squint a touch, and she murmurs, "Taste's familiar, I daresay."

"It were a tablecloth," says the over-tall possibly-skeleton to the shorter, plumper skull-faced person. It's a masculine voice, with a thick Lowers accent. "But it's been a cloak fer a year or three, now." He settles onto one of the benches for spectators, and sets his tankard down at the side away from Tanith.


"You know I can't handle my alcohol," Vandred replies, lips pursed. It's an attempted purse, at least - his social graces being the stuff that you usually scrape off your shoe. It's not for a lack of trying, which is obvious, it's just that it comes off.. wrong. Like when Sydney looks over, and he attempts to offer a polite brow lift of his own.

Instead, he arches one eyebrow severely, and gives a withering look that doesn't match up with his smile again. Then he's back to placidity, head turning to watch Gianna rather swiftly depart. "Like that. That's pretty fast. In those heels. I'm impressed at the stability." Comes his awful attempt at small-talk. He looks back towards the drinking contest. "At least there's still people in the running." A pause. He exhales sharply through his nose at his own joke.


There is a moment that the fox-faced woman just looks positively amazed that two out of three contestants have already been disqualified! She looks to Sydney, then to others in the crowd. "Well. Who poured those mugs! I thought it was just ale!" She moves to sniff at one of the mugs, "Kriel!" She calls out, "Did you put moonshine in the ale?! Damnit! I told you none of your moonshine! We don't want folk to go blind! I deal with you later.." She points to a culler man in the corner who is busy laughing his ass off.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask glances around, "Anyone else want to challenge Sydney here? Otherwise.. she gets the prize!"

Attract mode clicks on for Sydney, and she gestures to herself, "Oh, come on, you lot! It's a party! What's life without a little risk? I know one of you lot can drink me under the table, at least!"

Tanith makes a point of dusting off the lap of the skull masked, tall gentleman, before claiming on of his knees as her preferred perch. "It's well done. I only recognized it because I knew it as its life as a tablecloth. It seems this turn of the Wheel, it's a cloak. And it's very nice," she promises. Comfortable in her chosen seat, she catches the eye of one the servers passes and murmurs a request, and then leans back to drape an arm over one of her companion's angular shoulders. She points out the competition, grinning. "Sydney's slaughtering them," she laughs.

"Seems to me she earned that victory," Viviana murmurs, mostly to herself, while picking a stringy bit of meat from between her teeth with a pinky-nail. "Fairly."

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair holds up both hands and shakes her head. "If there really is moonshine in those cups, I might as well call it a night if I try!"

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is fine. Totally fine. If he's a little drunk at an important debriefing later, nobody will notice. "Can someone... normal wine? Water?" He asks plaintively, walking slowly - steadily, but slowly away from the head table. He makes a noise that is somewhere between 'whoo' and 'whew.' It's a subtle distinction but important.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves has left the colorful front table.

Gianna has left the colorful front table.

Sydney leans back and forth in her chair, "I won't say it /isn't/ moonshine. But it's not so bad!" She insists, flashing a wicked smile, "Come on, are you lot really going to leave a refined lady such as myself to drink by her lonesome?"

Gianna checks composure at normal. Gianna is successful.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask frowns. "We didn't even get to the flight of whiskies!" She laughs. She grabs a random bottle of whiskey and moves to the table, filling up the cupridium mug with it's strong contents. "It's yours. Take it!"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask gets Lush's Delight, a solid cupridium mug.

"Ain't gonna leave a lady drinkin' by 'er lonesome," the man in the skull mask calls over to Sydney, as Tanith settles herself in his lap. "'Cause there ain't no ladies 'ere, right? Not at the Beggar's Ball. Commoners only."

Gianna re-enters, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth and looking a little... well, she's looked more composed in the past. Much more composed. Also much more elegant. She emits a quiet but impressively sour little burp, makes a face, and takes a moment to look over those gathered. Her gaze finds Viviana in her silk and steelsilk, but her face remains impassive. She goes to collect her gittern from that other bard. "I didn't need a new mug anyway," she announces. Sore loser!Q

A touch disappointed that she couldn't get anyone else to join her but otherwise looking pleased as punch to have prevailed, the pugilist picks up her new mug of cupridium. It's deepset, which makes for quite the commitment when filled with strong spirits. She hops up onto her chair, "Lookit, this is how you drink!"

She /chugs/ the strong contents in a single go, and...

Sydney checks stamina and survival at daunting. Sydney marginally fails.

"Not by her lonesome, no - no -- that's rude and wouldn't do. But, one won't dare compete. That one is me, you see, and gods damn it -- rhyming is terrible. Just the worst." Droll tones, self-aware and still uncaring, Viviana pointedly reaches for another handheld meat pie and tucks into it. Seeking her previous little nook to sit in, only - without a mask. "There are some pieces of clothing that I would not be caught dead without." A bite, and she shushes while she eats. "Figure if Mae Culler could go fleet-footed about the city in a cloak of the same, it's just fine if I do."

"It's supposed to be," Tanith muses to the tall man in the skull mask, eyes wandering over the crowd. Her gaze falls on Viviana and the woman's garments, as well as the woman herself. She hides her smirk behind her newly brought tankard, sipping. "Or at the very least, I expected a few to slip in with masks and the like." Then Sydney is being Sydney, and the First Harlequin is completely distracted. "...oh dear."

She chugs her way all the way through it! It's super impressive! It's...

An audible rumble echoes from the depths of Sydney's abdomen. Still wielding her mug, she lunges off of her champion's chair and flees. Indescribable noises of a mug being partially refilled. She is the champion.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves has found something else to drink that is not whatever was in the drinking contest mug. He cheers for Sydney's chugging. Then he cheers for her barfing. All three competitors have barfed tonight, and that seems only fair and right in a weird, commoner's ball sort of way.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair cringes at the sounds just a little. "Yep. Made the right choice. I'll just keep drinking at my own pace. Ooh!" She spots a server passing with wine and cheese, grabbing food with one hand and drink with the other.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask watches as Sydney stands on her chair and proceeds to chug the drink. She calls out, "CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG! Oh no.. uh oh..." Raja scampers away from Sydney as it is clear the woman had made poor life decisions tonight. Laughing, she turns from the drinking table and moves out to join the crowds, mingling a little before she begins the next game. A glass of red wine is taken and she sips on it. She passes Viviana and pauses, looking to the woman in her very fine steelsilk. "Rule breaker!" She points at the woman. But really, what else is she going to do to the Pravus Princess? She just continues on.


"Tsh. Right." Jacali speaks as Raja points toward Viviana, her head tilting back, eyes rolling, and audible sigh heaved as she pushes herself to her feet and straightens her clothes with a quick run of her hands down the front of herself. "Gettin' a little too fancy for our likes, treacle, let's be away, shall we?"

"Oh, my, poor Sydney." Viviana murmurs, eyebrow lifting, and she glances from the flame-haired pugilist to the pair of skeletons, and then a knowing nod toward the wooden mask of the woman with windswept hair. "You chose wisely, hmm? Also -- yes, there's a cheese here with little bits of -- something in it. Try that." Lastly, toward the sly-eyed black fox, the Pravus Princess sketches a bow with flourish. "Guilty."

With her gittern reclaimed and the wine and cheese summarily ignored, Gianna makes her way toward the two skeletons as she plays. It's a vigorous playing.

Sydney is conspicuously absent for a time. Some of those making their way inside are muttering in hushed tones about 'why it's good not to have long hair.' Oh dear.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask laughs as the Princess states she is guilty as charged. She pauses, leans in to whisper something to Viviana before moving off to climb atop a box.

The tall one in a skull mask watches Sydney depart in a rush, then turns to look to Gianna when the bard approaches. A low-voiced conversation ensues, and Jacali's departure goes ignored.

"I do try," the figurehead woman replies to Viviana. "I don't always succeed, but I like to think the attempt counts for something." She nibbles the bit of cheese from the plate, considering the princess. She also leans in when Raja whispers, but does not manage to catch any of it.

Raja moves to stand up on her box, calling out to the people in the crowds. "Attention! Attention! It is time to crown our Prince (or Princess) of Fools! Now, how do we determine who is the royal fool? That's easy! You nominate them! Then, the nominees have to compete to find out who is the biggest Fool! Now, nobody wants to be a fool. The point of this game is to simply not be the LOSER! For, it is the LOSER of this competition that will be CROWNED the Prince of Fools! They will remain the foolish royalty until a new Fool is crowned! You may nominate anyone present, including yourself! A nominee may opt out if they wish, for who wants to be t he Crowned Fool?!

(For EACH /failed/ roll, you gain a point. Marginal fails count. A botch is /2/ points! A critical success roll will take away a point. The Crowned Fool will be the person with the most points.)

"There are a series of unique challenges! The first challenge is this box.." She pulls out a box and sets it on the table. "In this box, there are riddles! Some riddles are easy. Some riddles are hard! It is the luck of the draw!" (You may make up your own riddles!)

@check luck at normal

If luck check passes: @check intellect + riddles at easy

If luck check fails: @check intellect + riddles at hard


"Of course, Boss." states Vandred, pausing to carefully dust the last of the crumbs off Jacali with his hankerchief before he draws it back and dabs his own mouth, before wrapping his pie in said hankerchief and depositing it inside of his coat. His gaze moves to Viviana for a moment, then back to follow Jacali as she departs. He dips his head towards Raja, but states nothing as he quickly and silently filters his way back out - pausing briefly at the food to reach out, plucking up a few more pies which he slips into his coat, and then he's off and out, using the announcement of the crowning of the Royal Fool and the attention Raja draws upon her podium to depart in the background.


Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves says blearily, raising a hand, "I nominate myself and Nightingale Gianna for having the foolishness to chug whatever was in that mug as though we thought our rarified digestive systems could truly handle whatever life chooses to throw at us. It was a foolhardy act. Apologies, Gianna, but you would make a lovely Princess, even if it is a Princess of Fools."

"Praise for the boldness of the action, I think," Viviana offers, leaning in to share what that cunning fox whispered into her ear. "It amuses. Still. I think that there should be a repercussion, mm. May need to make a don -- well, putting it bluntly: an asshole toll. Mmm, we'll need to see."

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair says, "I nominate Sydney for continuing to drink after she already one. Look what it got her!"

Raja moves to stand up on her box, calling out to the people in the crowds. "Attention! Attention! It is time to crown our Prince (or Princess) of Fools! Now, how do we determine who is the royal fool? That's easy! You nominate them! Then, the nominees have to compete to find out who is the biggest Fool! Now, nobody wants to be a fool. The point of this game is to simply not be the LOSER! For, it is the LOSER of this competition that will be CROWNED the Prince of Fools! They will remain the foolish royalty until a new Fool is crowned! You may nominate anyone present, including yourself! A nominee may opt out if they wish, for who wants to be t he Crowned Fool?!

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves has joined the colorful front table.

Tanith calls out, "I nominate Sydney Waterfall!"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask looks to Sydney. "Welp. Two nominations for you to compete!"

Tanith adds, "And the cupcake wearing steelsilk!"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask point to vivianna, "Come on cupcake! You are nominated to play!"

Looking perhaps a /touch/ less regal and sporting hair that has been /partially/ dampened to make it presentable, Sydney makes her way back in only to find that her name is being called. Her thoroughly cleaned mug is still clutched in her hand. She squints slightly, "...I---oh, fuck it. Let's have a go of it. I nominate Tanith Grayhope /right back/."

Tanith mutters, "Gods dammit."

Viviana bursts into a bright peal of laughter, "I'll also nominate the cupcake in steelsilk," with a careless shrug of her shoulders, moving to join the game properly. A smirk, a gesture toward Sydney with a nod. "Tactics."

Gianna sniffs over at Spring-Green there, but struts over to the table and claims a seat, if in a slightly subdued manner. "...Clearly I need to come here more often."

Gianna has joined the colorful front table.

The taller skull-faced entity pats Tanith on the back. "Best'a luck, my love." He offers Tanith his hand with which to lever herself to her feet.

Viviana has joined the colorful front table.

Tanith squints at the man who's lap she's sitting in and wags a finger at him. "That better not be sarcasm, sir. I know where you sleep." She moves to stand and head over to the competitors' table, grumbling.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair laughs and drinks more of her wine. "Do we bow and curtsey for the winner? Inquiring minds want to know. Oh, Raja, do you need a score keeper?

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair laughs and drinks more of her wine. "Do we bow and curtsey for the winner? Inquiring minds want to know. Oh, Raja, do you need a score keeper?"

Tanith has left the green bench.

Tanith has joined the colorful front table.

Sydney shares a wry look at her fellow nominees, then takes a sip of what is unmistakably just plain water from her mug, swaying a touch in spite of her body's self-preservation instincts. "Hmph. Nominate me while I'm out cleaning up. Bold."

Tanith shrugs at Sydney as she takes a seat next to her. "You'd argue otherwise. Nice dress, makes the tits look-" And she gives a thumbs up at the brawler.

Viviana's good eye darts, nodding, "She's right."

The Fox woman looks to the 'Wooden' woman and grins. "Sure! You can help keep score! The Crowned Fool will be hoisted and cheered and paraded around the room!" She beams a smile. "Alright! The first game is upon us! There are a series of unique challenges! The first challenge is this box.." She pulls out a box and sets it on the table. "In this box, there are riddles! Some riddles are easy. Some riddles are hard! It is the luck of the draw!" (You may make up your own riddles! My apologies as I ran out of time to make riddles.)

@check luck at normal

If luck check passes: @check intellect + riddles at easy

If luck check fails: @check intellect + riddles at hard

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks luck at normal. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is successful.

Sydney deposits a friendly elbow in Tanith's side. The lack of a thump or thwack makes it very clearly a /friendly/ elbow strike. It still stings.

Viviana checks luck at normal. Viviana fails.

Gianna checks luck at normal. Critical Success! Gianna is spectacularly successful.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks intellect and riddles at easy. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is successful.

Sydney checks luck at normal. Critical Success! Sydney is spectacularly successful.

Tanith checks luck at normal. Tanith is successful.

Tanith checks intellect and riddles at easy. Tanith is successful.

Viviana checks intellect and riddles at hard. Viviana is successful.

Sydney checks intellect and riddles at easy. Sydney is successful.

Gianna checks intellect and riddles at easy. Gianna is successful.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves pulls a riddle out of the box. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" He huffs. "Oh, I've heard this one before. Because both can produce a few notes, though they are very flat, and it is never put with the wrong end in front."

Tanith ows at the pointy elbow. "Gods, fatten up, would you? You're all edges." She grins at Sydney. "Or don't. I don't mind pointy bits." And then she's getting a riddle. An easy riddle. "Oh I know the answer to this one." She points at Raja. "A -DUCK-." There she answered it.

Gianna leans forward - there is a PRIZE and that is the MAGIC WORD, so she is enthusiastic - and plucks a riddle out. "I have a bed, but do not sleep. I have a mouth, but I don't eat --- oh. A river. Easy." She drops the paper onto the tabletop.

Sydney clicks her tongue at Tanith, "/You like all edges/." She says, as though reminding. She clears her throat, "Feed me and I live, yet give me a drink and I die - well, that's fucking suitable, isn't it, given I just near drank myself to death." She tucks her chin up a tad, "But it's fire. Everyone knows that one."

Viviana laughs, and of course it's a hard one - but she thinks and thinks and drinks a little bit about it while she thinks - and eventually answers, "Oh. Her _name_ is What. Huh."

A donkey is led into the mix of people. It brays loudly and obstinately at the party-goers. A small obstacle course is set up. "The object of this game is to get your donkey through the obstacle course without knocking things over!" Glasses and empty bottles are set on furniture making up the course. A bump by the donkey or a falling rider could really make a mess! (A fail means you knock off glassware and possibly fell off!)

If you participated in the drinking contest: @check dexterity + ride at hard

If you did /not/ participate in the drinking contest: @check dexterity + ride at normal

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks dexterity and ride at hard. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is successful.

Gianna leans back in her seat and narrows her eyes as the donkey is brought out. "I wasn't told this would involve animals," she says. Her nose wrinkles. That is a DONKEY.

Tanith checks dexterity and ride at normal. Tanith is successful.

"Oh, fuck, animals with hooves. Why -- why did it have to come down to riding." Viviana's frowning, then with an inclination of her head toward Gianna. "That's going to be fun after drinking, mm?"

Gianna checks dexterity and ride at hard. Gianna fails.

Viviana checks dexterity and ride at normal. Viviana marginally fails.

Sydney checks dexterity and ride at hard. Sydney fails.

Pose sees the donkey. He falls in love immediately. "Oh, how cute," he says. About a stubborn jackass. Where have we heard this one before. With panache and eagerness, he steps down from the table, goes right over to the donkey, and puts his arms around its neck, murmuring what one can only imagine are tender words of adoration.

Apparently, those tender words of adoration are successful, because Spring-Green climbs aboard the donkey, leaning forward like some fairytale princess with his hair draping over its neck, and navigates the makeshift obstacle course without knocking a single obstacle over. How...impressive...

Tanith is sober thanks to her distracting companion, and manages to guide her donkey through the obstacle course. The worst case is a pause the donkey makes at a table to steal some pie, and then continues to meander along, Tanith laughing so hard she's weeping. "Not ... what I expected to do today!"

Sydney side-eyes the donkey, and the obstacle course, a bit of a sway in her posture as she stands, a fist tucked above her hip. "...How hard could it possibly be to ride someone's ass? I suppose there are obstacles, yes, but really, it's just a matter of coaxing and being gen--" She mounts the donkey and immediately gets thrown over its head by an aggravated buck. Disqualified.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask guffaws at the riders, especially Sydney!

"Mm," is Gianna's reply to Vivianna. It's like a word, but not quite. It's like an agreement? Probably? When it's her turn to get on the donkey, she gives it a dire look. It remains unintimidated. The self-styled Nightingale clambers onto its back with difficulty, approaching the first glass obstacle. It is immediately knocked aside, skittering away. The donkey brays its annoyance, and Gianna tumbles off its back, hands scrabbling to try to keep upright. She fails. She is not good at this. The indignity of being on her rump on the floor.

Viviana has a pain in her ass. Jackass is to blame. It's only problematic when the donkey just stops at the end of the course. The princess has no idea why the beast has stopped -- until she steps in it on the way back to the table, and she grumbles.

Sydney folds her arms from where she lays, staring skyward. "...I'm spending entirely too much of this party on my knees or my back. 'Least I got this mug, 'ere." She's still carrying it. It is now absent all of the water that previously filled it, which her dress is now wearing. That... probably didn't help her with her donkey-holding abilities.

Sydney wields Lush's Delight, a solid cupridium mug.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair seems to be keeping score with a collection of five bowls and a pile of olives, dropping one into a designated bowl each time a competitor scores. Once or twice she picks up on of the olives when it looks like there is a close call, but when the person in question manages to avoid earning a point she eats it instead.

Gianna mumbles, "I don't even have a mug."

"You ain't ridden someone's ass yet, Syd? Gotta say, I'm shocked." The amusement just about radiates from the skull-masked man, and it only increases as so many people fall off the donkey - and when Viviana steps in what the donkey left behind, he just about howls with laughter.

Tanith cackles at Viviana's fate. "V...vinegar should get out most of the smell, just wash... wash it all with v-vinegar-...!"

Viviana grumbles even more. She might be trying very hard not to laugh. Or cry. Might be.

Raja just laughs! She is so entertained! "Shew! That was hard work! That donkey is a stubborn thing!" The donkey is led out and the messes made are swept up by hired hands. "Now for a treat!" Pies are brought out and set in front of each contestant. Each pie is different! "Hurry! The pies won't stay warm for long!"

If you want to eat the whole pie: @check composure at hard

If you want to 'cheat' at eating the pie: @check dexterity + legerdemain at hard

If you want to throw the pie at someone: @check dexterity at normal

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks composure at hard. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves marginally fails.

Viviana checks composure at hard. Viviana is successful.

Sydney checks dexterity at normal. Sydney marginally fails.

Tanith checks dexterity at normal. Tanith is successful.

Gianna checks dexterity at normal. Gianna is successful.

Gianna clears her throat gently, amusement in her eyes. She may have even snickered. She reclaims her place at the table, eyeing the pie. She threw up earlier. She swallows thickly. Then she just scoops the pie up, turns, and throws it at Viviana.

Gianna comes from the blind side at that.

"As long as it's not mud," the person wearing the spring-green mask says. He does not even try to eat it with a fork, just picks it up and starts going at it with his BARE MOUTH. Bare-mouthed pie eating. And he does a pretty good job of it, too, until just about at the very end, when he suddenly just ... stops. "Nope," he says. There's hardly even a whole piece left. But he pushes it away, shaking his head and making 'no more' motions with his hands. Well, one of his hands. The other one is in front of his mouth.

Sydney shakes her mug half-heartedly in the direction of the skull-masked man, "Would seem bloody /not/." She sits up and carries herself back to a seat, chortling to herself and swatting the water on her front. "Dry off, already." When presented with a pie, she skirts a glance from side to side. Target totally acquired. She reels her arm back with the man with the Skull Mask in her sights, and... /fwip/. She half-throws the tin, which falls well short, and the pie just plops to the ground. Spectacular.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask points at Sydney "PIE ABUSER!"

Tanith has a moment of crisis, watching the pies being eaten, looking at her pie, waiting to be devoured. "I wrote a book about this. The proper way to eat pie. But I didn't make it a group effort, maybe-..." And then she gapes as Sydney attempts to FLING A PIE at her innocently seated companion in a skull mask.

"HOW DARE YOU-!" Tanith barks, and lobs her warm, delicious pie straight at Sydney's face.

The man with the skull mask leans a little to one side as Sydney's pie is launched, but the pie doesn't even make it that far. It's not for nothing that he's known as one of the dodgiest gits in Arx, and possibly in all Arvum; even if it had made it, it'd have flown past his ear.

Sydney checks stamina and survival at hard. Sydney is successful.

Viviana's eating her pie - it's a fruit pie, possibly peach or apple or spiced pear, she doesn't care. She's eating the pie with flair. So focused, she isn't fully aware that there's a pastry-packed threat aimed for her blind side. All of the yelling does make her realize only a moment too late there's a pie that's mooshed into her face, and hair, and shoulder.

Sydney is just clicking her tongue regretfully at her botched throw, and sheepishly grinning in the man's direction, but before she can so much as open her mouth, her entire face /becomes/ a pie. It conforms to her face. She twitches her fingers slightly while continuing to wear the pie. It is somehow not sliding off of her face. It is a breath-takingly beautiful mask.

Gianna's eyes widen. She LAUGHS. She laughs hard enough that she has to hold her stomach. It is an evil, wicked, unrestrained laugh.

Between the wine and her laughter, the wooden woman struggles to stay upright while the pie fight goes on. Obviously wanting to join in on the fun, she starts checking olives at the competitors as well. Will they notice in all that pastry carnage? Probably not, but the figurehead does not care.

Someone in the back suddenly yells, "FOOD FIGHT!"

Viviana takes the time to finish (and properly enjoy her pie in the process) before she turns in the direction of the pie-tack. Gianna. Eye contact, smirk. The Pravus princess hitches up a shoulder, scoops a handful of pie off her right shoulder, and she proceeds to take a bite out of that too. Slowly. "So kind of you, Nightingale."

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair shouts from nearby, "FOOD FIGHT!!"

Tanith clambers over in the wake of her pie-flinging, laughing about as hard as Gianna is, catching Sydney by one arm. "Wait wait... don't breathe it in, you'll start coughing-" she's trying to explain, still giggling. But the baker doesn't wipe the pie from Sydney's eyes, that would just make too much sense. No, she wipes the pie clear of Sydney's proud nose and mouth, and then plants a warm kiss on the brawler. ... and then leaves her to wipe the rest of the pie off. "Oh no!" she cackles, trying to dive out of the way. Food fights? NO!

Sydney mutters, "FOOF FIGHT"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask shouts loudly from nearby, "FOOD FIGHT!!"

FOOD FIGHT. The Nightingale elegantly slips under the table.

Gianna checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Gianna marginally fails.

Tanith checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Tanith is successful.

Viviana checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Viviana marginally fails.

Tanith gets to the tall man in the skull mask and the tablecloth cloak. "Hide me!" she squeals.

And suddenly, food is flying through the air! There is pie, smacking a party goer in the face. There is stew dumped on someone's head! Rolls bounce harmlessly off noggins and butts. Someone definitely makes a game out of bouncing buns off people's buns. Cheese hurts though! If you get hit with cheese, that is not fun!

Someone wearing A Skull Mask checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Someone wearing A Skull Mask is successful.

Tanith shouts from nearby, "BUT WHO IS THE FOOL?"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask fails.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair is successful.

A pigeon almost too fat to fly, Franz, a gray clad ox of a man, Hans, the shorter version of Franz arrive, following Jhond.

The recipient of an exceptionally sweet kiss, Sydney is still in the process of wiping pie from her face. The result is that anything flying by her is entirely left to the gods rather than any sort of ability for her to dodge.

Sydney checks luck at hard. Botch! Sydney fails completely.

The food fight commences, and the skull-masked man whips the cloak from his shoulders; he's already on the move, heading for the floor, and when Tanith joins him that copper 'cloak' becomes a cover for them both. It started life as a tablecloth, and now it's a defence against food once more.

Roger, Willard arrive, following Gerald.

Gianna is being attacked by the bun-butter. Bum-bunner? She's on her hands and knees under the table and someone is absolutely pelting her ass with delicious buns. "WHY," she demands.

Viviana's pelted with bits of flung food. It's a lost cause. Hopeless, really, and if she happened to be on the receiving end of cheese - she yelps, and heads on out the way she arrived. Only, like, way filthier. Not even in the good way.

Just as Sydney is wiping the last of the directly-hit pie from her eyes, a second hits her square in the face hard enough to bowl her out of her seat, her legs kicking and flailing elegantly as she topples, covered in pumpkin, apple, water, and moonshine.

Tanith can't stop laughing, shouting her question over the sound of more laughter and food being thrown. The Skull Mask is given a giggling kiss that tastes like pie, the underside tugged up and out of the way just enough to plant the affection. "We might need to rescue Sydney," she snickers.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Botch! Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out fails completely.

There's a rather familiar looking waterpail that causes her good eye to widen considerably with alarm, and she's even faster about her retreat.

Viviana has left the colorful front table.

WHACK WHACK WHACK! Pies and stew and buns all fly at Raja all at once! She can't even defend herself! All she can do is hunker down, lifting her arm to cover her head and she screams out, "Aaaahhh!!! Shit!" Laughter escapes her and as she moves to the food table, grabbing a pair of pies and lobbing them towards the newcomers at the entrance!

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out walks into the hall so innocently. Just an ordinary bucket headed citizen out for a stroll from the park and into the Hall when he is immediately accosted by flying food. it wasn't even really aim at him, just an innocent bystander but within moments he goes from a simple black dressed bucket head to being coated from head to toy in collateral damage. "Ah.. wha.."

There's something of a pause as an older gentleman dressed in simple linens pauses at the entrance to the community hall. His eyes widen the smallest bit. "Huh," Gerald murmurs quietly, as he ponders the spectacle, one corner of his mouth twisting in a small smile. He leans against one of the walls, observing with a certain bland amusement on his lips.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is spectacularly successful.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair might be a bit drunker than even she realized. She manages to dodge all the flying food, taking shelter under a table with her wine and a roll, giggling like a maniac while watching the chaos that she may or may not have insited with her olive throwing.

You know what buns are made of? Bread. You know what bread is good for? Settling an upset stomach. Gianna plucks up one of the buns she's been assaulted with, sort of dusts it off with one hand, and has a bite. She can sit under this table and watch with her gittern tucked under one arm. Look. There's no need to waste food.

Sydney is wise enough to stay on the ground, lifting an arm and clearing the pie from her face, another arm shielding her from anything /else/ that might come flying her way. "Oh, fuck's sake. It's all in my hair. It's going to take a sharding age to wash out." She bemoans.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves makes some unholy noise that is part shriek of terror and part warble of delight. He dodges all the flying food with impossible grace. It sort of looks like he's dancing, really, all flowing limbs and floating hair. And somehow, throughout the chaos of it all, he ends up totally unscathed. Not a crumb of food on him. He totally barfed earlier, but nobody can tell anymore. He is TRIUMPHANT.

Tanith elbows the tall man protecting them from food. "Do we want to try and drag her out? All that hair ..." she tsks, motioning at Sydney.

"Nope," says the skull-masked man cheerfully, then murmurs something as the food flies overhead.

Tanith cracks up with laughter, muttering back, "So are you!"

Raja laughs at the whole pie eating bit turned into massive food fight. She wipes some pie from her face and plucks some stew bits out of her thick black hair. "Ok! Ok! Time for the final round! Let's figure out who our Crowned Fool is this year!" Because after the good time had at this one, there has to be more of these balls. "And.. now you have come to an end of your foolish adventure, you must show your prowess in the field of love! Love is the /best/ of a Fool's errand! Go forth and proclaim your heart to somebody, anybody in the crowd! Then, we will finally know who our Crowned Fool is!"

If you are a mess from the pie: @check charm + seduction/performance at hard

If you managed to avoid getting messy: @check charm + seduction/performance at normal

If you are not about that: @check composure at hard

Gerald checks composure at hard. Gerald is successful.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves checks charm and seduction at normal. Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is successful.

Gerald checks perception and streetwise at normal. Gerald is successful.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out checks charm and seduction at hard. Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out fails.

Sydney continues to wipe her eyes clear of pie, and then calls to the side, "I can hear you! Mostly! Sort of!" She pulls herself to a seated position, eyes skirting about with a skeptical glance. "...Are the pies still coming? I've had enough of pie for a lifetime. Well. A week. A day." She slides the goalposts quite fluidly about. She does, however, notice Gerald, brows lifting in clear recognition.

Gerald checks dexterity and legerdemain at easy. Gerald is successful.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair crawls out form under the table, her linen dress picking up a couple of stains on the way, and stand up once more. She has a job to do! She sips her wine and watches the competitors with interest.

Tanith checks charm and performance at normal. Tanith is successful.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask checks perception and streetwise at normal. Someone wearing A Skull Mask is successful.

Gianna checks charm and performance at hard. Botch! Gianna fails completely.

Sydney checks charm and seduction at hard. Sydney is successful.

With a twitch of his lips, Gerald steps towards one of the tables, moving a touch spryly for an older gentleman. A coin rolls right and then left across one of his knuckles. Something of amusement lingers there, as he notes Sydney. He steps towards one of the tables, seeks out a bottle and casually pours himself some whiskey. Flick. A coin finds itself someplace and he settles against one of the walls -- opposite the food fight, for the moment. Sip.

Gianna pokes her head out from under the table at this newest task, mouth full of the last of her bun. She skitters out, rises up, and tosses her hair over one shoulder. Time to smoulder. And then a pie smacks her right in the face. Someone out there wasn't quite done with the food fight.

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out has no idea what is going on. covered in pie and other bits he looks down at himself and lifts his hands to wipe/smear some particularly gooey bits all along the front of his shirt. The bucket tilts down as he looks as his palms and then brings them up to his face to slap and imprint a palm shaped food stain like war paint. "Lets get Lovin'" he says to not one in particular before scanning for a likely target.

Gianna staggers back a step and reaches up to swipe at her eyes. "Owww. There's fruit in my eye," she complains.

Like a beacon of hope in a pie-filled abyss, the spring-green masked gentleman tilts his head to listen to Fox-face's declaration as to the final competition. He's done a terrible job of proving himself a fool so far and this is no exception; his posture changes immediately, from weirdly graceful and almost balletic to something that's all rolling and languid, like a big cat stalking its prey. "Did you say...lovin'?" he purrs, slinking over to buckethead, swiping a finger in the food in his shirt, and popping said finger into his mouth to lick...whatever that is he just got on his finger off.

Tanith looks conflicted, looking from the tall man at her side to the rest of the room, a knowing look in her eye. And then ... she spots her intended.

"Beloved," declares Tanith, to the one, singular chocolate pie left unscathed on a table across the room. "Sweet silken decadence, my darling."

Careful steps are taken as Tanith waves her hands in grand, suggestive gestures. "You melt upon my tongue, your golden edges, your salty-sugared nature. You've survived when your brethren have failed, you alone are meant for me..." Her hands frame the pie, hold it aloft, scenting the chocolate-goodness. "Delicious, savory ..." She nibbles on the crust, lost for a moment in her enamored state of chocolate mousse pie.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask swoons at Tanith, fanning herself.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair counts and recounts the point olives, then makes her way to Raja. She stands behind the fox-masked woman and whisper the results to her.

Butter doesn't melt in Gerald's mouth as he offers a head bob towards those present. Then. Grinning to Tanith, he says, "Ode to a pie. Most elegantly done." There's a gravelly amusement in his voice as he sups on the joy that is his whiskey. Held as if it were life itself. His lips twitch a little bit and he raises a glass.

It seems that his target came to him. The spring-green mask fellow makes its way to him and he watches the finger scrap the food from his shirt before popping it into his mouth and the bucket wobbles in what is probably a nod. "I did. there's something about a man that isn't afraid to put questionable things in his mouth without worrying about where they've been or what it's been touching." bucket jiggle. provocatively.

A glob of pie drops off Gianna's face. She tentatively touches the remaining bits and tucks her fingers into her mouth. Look. There's no reason to WASTE FOOD. But she gets a strand of her hair in there too and that's just no good. She bats at her mouth.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask moves to the side and converses with the 'Wooden' woman. A laugh comes from her. "Friends! We have a Fool amongst us!" She calls out loudly. "Our biggest Fool this year is none other than the bardic beauty and master musician, Gianna!" She pulls a CROWN out of the box by the oversized chair. She makes her way towards Gianna, "Please kneel to become the CROWNED FOOL!"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask drops Fool's Crown, a solid cupridium helm adorned with seraphinite.

Gianna takes Fool's Crown, a solid cupridium helm adorned with seraphinite.

Tanith shouts from nearby, "Hurray, GIANNA!"

Someone wearing A Skull Mask emerges from under the copper tablecloth-come-cloak in order to applaud Gianna. "'Ail ter th'Queen'a Fools!"

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask is overheard praising Gianna: HAIL THE QUEEN OF FOOLS!

Tanith is overheard praising Gianna: HAIL! THE QUEEN OF FOOLS!

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair is overheard praising Gianna.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask shouts loudly from nearby, "HAIL THE QUEEN OF FOOLS!"

"And I like a man who isn't afraid of using gardening implements in creative ways," spring-green, replies in a sultry tone, watching the provocative bucket jiggle. "And here I was thinking that I'd be underdressed." He laughs (it is a very recognizable laugh, suggesting that spring-green may be in a similar category as Gianna when it comes to profession) to hear the Nightingale proclaimed Queen of Fools, and cheers loudly, applauding wildly with both hands. "All hail Queen Gianna!"

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair is overheard praising Raja.

Gianna perks up when she is announced the winner. "Thank you," she says, very graciously. The crown. It is so SHINY. She takes a knee in front of the Fox-Faced masked woman. She knees in a bit of pie but really at this point she's Queen so she may as well lean into it.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask is overheard praising Gianna: 'AIL TER TH'QUEEN'A Fools!

With an appreciative snort in Gerald's direction as he cheekily sidesteps all the collateral damage, she perks up as the last task is assigned. Seduction? Seduction. As she's covered in all matter of pie and food and smelling of moonshine? She scans the room for a time and then folds her arms. She looks across to Tanith, and she just /stares/. That's a difficult act to follow. Thankfully, she does so without much fanfare, though she unexpectedly does manage to woo the randomly selected woman she puts the moves on with her artful display of ruggedly beautiful pie-wearing.

She applauds earnestly as she makes her way 'cross the room to Gerald, plonking down next to him in order to be out of the line of further fire. "Hail, and such!" She raises a mug.

Gianna is overheard praising Raja: The best beggar's ball.

Tanith is overheard praising Raja: What the Abyss happened

Someone wearing A Skull Mask is overheard praising Raja: The Beggar's Ball was a grand success! Well, not that grand, that was sort of the point...

Gianna is overheard praising Jhond: Sexiest buckethead.

Raja places the shiny cupridium crown adorned with seraphinite upon the head of the Queen of Fools. Hired people flock towards her and hoists her up on their shoulders, parading her around the room with loud cheers! Flowers are thrown at her and bits of food and drink are offered up in grand offerings to the woman!

Gianna is overheard praising Tanith: Masterful pie eating.

Gianna is overheard praising Sydney: Masterful drinking, valiant barfing.

Gianna is overheard praising Cesare: PUKE BUDDIES!

Tanith still has the pie in her lap. ...half of it is missing, carefully nibbled away. Ahem.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is overheard praising Raja: Vomit incidents: 3. Food fights: 1. Seductions: Innumerable. Queens of Fools: The best one, the only one. Balls: Well, I don't know, I didn't personally count. But this was the most fun one I have been to, ever.

Sydney leans over to exchange words with Gerald.

Gianna rises regally (except for the pie still smeared on her) and flourishes with her free arm. The other is keeping her gittern safe. "I bless you all upon this day, my coronation!" she calls out, voice carrying easily. She has a set of lungs on her. "Proud citizens, a toast to us all!"

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair is among those gently tossing flowers to Gianna as she passes. When their newly minted Fool Queen toasts them all, she raises a glass in reply.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is overheard praising Gianna: The best, most beautiful, most pie-covered Queen of Fools there has ever been, a truly legendary figure out of myth, beyond my ability to truly recount, except the part where she ran away and barfed, that part I can recount very clearly.

HIP HIP HUZZAH! HIP HIP HUZZAH! Cheers continue for Gianna for some time and food coated guests proceed to drain the alcoholic drinks at the beverage table. Raja moves to her chair and flops in it, grinning a demon's grin from behind her mask. "This turned out so much better than I anticipated."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out finds a glass and raises it towards the green before pour the contents against the front of the mouth holeless bucket and just adding to the mess.

Gerald checks charm and performance at normal. Gerald is successful.

Bringing his hands together (though, not before setting the glass down), Gerald calls out, in a stentorian voice, "Hip hip huzzah! Hip hip huzzah." The clapping intensifies. "Three cheers for the Fool Queen!" Then, he lofts his glass, with a tilt in Gianna's direction, before taking a swallow of his whiskey.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask pauses in drinking of her drink and calls out, "Oh and thank you!" She calls to the very tall skull-faced man by Tanith. "This night was all /his/ idea! So, it is his fault, really. I am just in the path of his anarchy!"

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves watches the drink cascade down the bucket in some dismay. Well, it's hard to tell, given his face is covered, but one assumes dismay, given his posture. "You know you can lift the bucket up to drink, right?" He asks, lifting his own mask indicatively to slurp inelegantly from his own beverage. And then giving a slight wince. He ate almost a whole pie about fifteen minutes ago.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves is overheard praising Raymesin: This mysterious individual not only manages to drink despite having no lower jaw AND make table linens look good, but I am told he is who we have to thank for inciting the riot - I mean, the ball. What a genius.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair lifts her glass again, giggling, over Raja's head. "To anarchy!"

Gianna plucks up a mug of something, glances into it, pales, and puts it down again. She is not drinking to her own toast. She may still be queasy. Perhaps another bun. The Queen bends down to see if any more are on the floor under the table. Five... minute... rule?

Sydney flashes a wide grin, then turns to look out over the carnage, one leg folded over the other, smug satisfaction evident on her features. "...See? I was absolutely aiming the right direction, after all. Just needed a better throwin' arm. Or. Well. A better pie. A pie that was more securely in its tin. Or... something."

Bolt, a Kite of the Cloudspine arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair before departing.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask salutes Raja with his tankard, then offers the assembled a bow. "Yer welcome," he says cheerfully. "But it were you lot as made this party. 'Ere's ter th'common folk'a Arx, the ones as really keep this place alive."

"I could, yes," the pail head nods towards the spring-green mask, but make no effort to lift it. "but that would be against the law. I'm sure of it, and we don't break those down here."

Sydney cheers at that statement, perhaps a bit /too/ loudly.

Tanith grins at Raja, moving to reclaim the Skull Mask's knee. "He does alright," she says modestly. "Sydney," she calls to the brawler. "I've half of this mousse pie left. Wanna share?"

Gianna is overheard praising Raymesin: Apparently he is ALSO to blame.

"Oh no," spring-green says softly. "I'm breaking the law." His expression, the lower half of it, anyway, is utterly recalcitrant. "Someone will be here any minute to throw me over their shoulder and carry me to prison."

Sydney rolls up to her feet and crosses the room to where Tanith is seated, "You're sharing your one true love with me? I'm deeply flattered. Naturally, in the spirit of sharing, I see no need to hold back." She seats herself next to Tanith and bumps shoulders with her, "...Though, I tend to make a mess of myself when I'm eating pie, as you can well see." It's still in her hair. So very, very in her hair.

Speaking of hair pie... wait. No. Speaking of pie in someone's hair, Gianna is trying to comb her fingers through hers.

Someone wearing A Black Fox-Faced Mask looks around the room, her gaze falling on the bucket man. After lookinhg him over, "Mmm. I recognize that butt anywhere. Pardon me.." The comment was said to the 'Wooden' woman. Rising from her seat, she strutts across the room, bits of pie and stew still dripping from her garments. "Hello there." She glances up to the man in the Spring mask, "Mind if I cut in?" One hand lifts up to peel the mask from her face before she turning to peel that bucket off of Jhond. "Damn. You even make buckets look good." Grasping the collar of his shirt, she pulls him in for a deep and passion-filled kiss.

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves looks over and just shakes his head at Gianna, like, oh girl, girl, no.

Bolt, a Kite of the Cloudspine arrives, delivering a message to Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair before departing.

Tanith laughs at Sydney, grimacing at the state of her hair. "Oh ... darling, I have a bathtub and a lot of water. Although ... Atli would make quick work of anything you drag in." She's conflicted. And still laughing, offering the brawler the last of the pie. "I do not envy you. Not a bit."

Someone wearing an upended water pail with two eye holes gouged out shakes his bucket towards the green-spring, "I'm not a lawyer. maybe I'm wrong.. but you can always hope for someone to throw you over their shoulders and carry you away with some restrai..." and he gets interrupted as the Fox cuts on and he turns those gouged out eye holes towards her. "You should see.." some other quip is cut short with the bucket is pulled and he uses his mouth for something else entirely with an arm wrapping around the hostess.

...and then Spring-Green promptly scoots out of the way for the tongue sparring that is happening next to him. It's all for the best. He has to go talk to important people SHORTLY. Very important people. About important things. He finishes his drink, slips away, and heads for the Seawatch gate!

Someone wearing a spring-green mask with buds and leaves has left the colorful front table.

Someone wearing A Skull Mask ends up with two women sharing his lap, and doesn't seem to be too upset about this. Even if one of them is covered in pie and moonshine.

Someone wearing what appears to be a wooden mask of a woman's face with windswept hair sits sideways across Raja's abandoned chair, sipping her wine and smiling. This was a good day.

Raja pulls back from the kiss and smiles to Jhond, "I am so happy to see you. Thank you for coming. I know you were busy today." She slips up next to him, turning to face the rest of crowd.

Gianna has abandoned her hair and is nibbling on another bun. She has seated herself on the competition table, one leg crossed over the other, and is observing her subjects.

Taking another swallow of his drink, Gerald looks everyone over, before flashing a broader smile, his lips twsting at touch as he leans against the wall, listening to Raja.

Sydney plants another combative little nudge of her elbow in Tanith's ribs, whilst leaning back against the man in the skull mask. The result is that he... gets pie hair near to his face. A casualty, to be sure. She makes quick work of the offered pie, given she didn't actually get to eat any of her own for the competition, really. "I'm quite sure it'll come out. The true pain is waiting for it to dry."